I have been anemic for ages, but mostly it was ignored. Whenever I tried taking iron supplements they made me sick, and eating iron-rich foods didn’t help, so instead I did nothing. After all, most of my iron tests were fine, it was only my ferritin that was low, and that wasn’t a problem, right?

Then back in 2012 I started doing my own research into why I was so sick and I found all sorts of useful answers. I would be so much sicker without that research (shout out to public libraries!) Among other things, I learned that low iron levels would impede my thyroid improvement via medication, so I had to address it. My regular doctors weren’t helpful, but I managed to see a hematologist in 2013. He prescribed iron infusions and those more than did the trick – my ferritin levels went through the roof.

Over the past six years my ferritin levels have slowly come back down to within the normal range, then lower within that range, until finally 10 months ago I became anemic again. Oy.

I put off dealing with it while I managed some other health issues, but finally I took iron supplements that my naturopath recommended as being especially easy on the stomach. We started out with 1/2 the normal dose. At first I felt ok, so I figured there was no problem. But after weeks of feeling sicker than usual, I finally realized the problem had to be those iron supplements. Within a few days of stopping them I felt a lot better, but I had lingering symptoms for another month and a half.

After that experience, I didn’t want to try iron supplements again. My naturopath suggested taking an even smaller dose, but I had been so sick for so long that I just couldn’t bring myself to do it. Some folks recommended cooking with cast iron pans, but they’re too heavy for me to lift. A friend found something called Lucky Iron Fish and I actually bought one. It’s like cast iron pans, but you boil it in water and then drink the water to get the iron off of it. I chickened out and it’s been sitting in a drawer for months. I don’t want to risk getting so sick again.

But I have to do something. That’s the problem. I made an appointment months ago with a new hematologist, and it’s finally coming up next week. I made the appointment with the idea that I would get iron infusions again but now that the time is here, I’m hesitant. What if the infusions make me really sick? Back in 2013 I don’t know how they made me feel. I was doing so poorly that it was impossible to tell. I had only started seeing my naturopath two months before, had just being adrenal supplements, and hadn’t even started natural dessicated thyroid as my new medication yet.

Now I am in a better place. Overall I feel hugely better compared to where I was in 2013. On the other hand, I’m still struggling every day, and the tiniest thing can make me feel like crap for weeks or months; like those iron supplements I took last fall. So I want to risk a major setback? And unlike supplements, I can’t change my mind and stop. Once I have an infusion, that stuff is in my body.

And what’s in the infusion besides iron? Chemicals? Additives? Other things that could make me ill? I already have a long list of things my body reacts badly to: everything from the dye used in brain MRIs to lavender, corn, various medications, gluten, the pesticides on apples, broccoli, and so much more. And those are only some of the things I’m aware of. I have been thinking lately that there are probably more things I am reacting to. What if some of those things are in the infusion?

So I’m rightly scared and I don’t know what to do. I’m hoping the hematologist has some brilliant idea that I’m currently unaware of, but otherwise, I’ll have to make a tough decision soon. Should I risk the infusion? Try the iron fish? Remain anemic?

For anyone who has dealt with iron infusions, I would love to know what you think! Making medical decisions is often hard, so this is nothing new, but that doesn’t make me feel any better about it. Because no matter which option I choose, I know it could potentially be very bad.

There are so many big, obvious ways that chronic illness can stop us from doing the things that make us feel like ourselves. Like not being able to work or having to give up a favorite form of exercise. But then there are the smaller things that most people don’t think about. And lately those have been bugging the hell out of me.

Don’t get me wrong. Not being able to work really sucks. And I should have a dog. I adore dogs. I dog sit a lot. And yet, I can’t manage having a dog every day, so no dog for me. And yeah, that sucks. Then there are things like no longer being able to dance. I miss that. And I wonder if I get married one day, will I not even be able to dance at my own wedding? That idea is so sad that I don’t like to think about it, and get it comes to mind anyway. Then again, will I even be able to have a big wedding? My guess is that my adrenals wouldn’t be able to manage that. Those are big things. Then there are smaller things.

Like I was telling a friend about how I hadn’t kissed anyone in 6 months. He suggested that if I’m on a date with someone I like then I should just go for it. But I pointed out the big problem: gluten. I can’t kiss someone who has eaten or drunk gluten. Or who is wearing lipstick or chapstick that might have gluten in it. So I have to tell them, which can be awkward on a first or second date. Like, there was the woman I mentioned it to on the first date. She was all done, with nice clothes, makeup, lipstick. On our second date she was dressed up with nice clothes and makeup, but no lipstick. And when we ate dinner, she ordered hers gluten-free also. Ah hah! Clues! And yes, we kissed that night. More recently I went out with someone and managed to bring it up. But then he ate gluten with dinner anyway. So obviously, no kissing there. I used to make the first move all the time. In fact, the first few people I kissed I had made the first move. I can’t do that anymore, not unless I know they are gluten-free. And that totally sucks. I can’t simply be me.

And there’s the money thing. I want to try and earn some money. Not only does my health not allow me to do much, but even when I can work a little bit, there’s the issue that my government benefits prevent me from earning a little money. I need to either earn enough to get off of benefits, or earn nothing at all. Because if I earn $1000, I will keep about $250 and the rest will get eaten up by a reduction in benefits. And that sucks.

I want to play with the kids in my life. I am auntie to 11 wonderful kids, and I’m too tired to do much with them. I have managed to host a couple of sleepovers, but even those were exhausting. I want to babysit more, chase after them, take them for outings. And it hurts that I can’t do that.

There’s a list of projects sitting next to me. Things I really want to do, if only I could manage to do them. If only I had more good hours in the day. These are the things that make me feel like me. I do enough to hold onto my sense of self, but there’s so much more I want to do. There’s so much my health won’t allow me to do.

I think about the kinds of things I have done over the years, back when I was healthier. I think about the kinds of things I would like to do now. I want to go out for drinks with friends in the evening, go out dancing, ride a bicycle. But mostly I want to act naturally, follow my instincts, and just be myself. And I find it incredibly frustrating that I can’t do that basic thing: just be me.

Like this:

There are so many topics I want to write about but they’re negative (I mean, the name of the site is Chronic Rants, after all), and I really need to focus on something positive today. So let’s talk about a surprising benefit of my physical therapy.

When I was a kid, my hands and feet were bigger than my mom’s, so we figured I’d be taller than her 5’2″. When I was diagnosed with scoliosis, x-rays were done to see how much more I would grow. The doctors predicted I would be around 5’3″. But as I grew, my scoliosis got worse and compressed my torso. In the end, I was only 5’1″.

Now, being short isn’t the end of the world, but let’s face it, it can be super inconvenient. In fact, a lot of my neck pain comes from being short. Reaching up to get things off of high shelves, reaching forward for the steering wheel, sitting awkwardly in chairs because I can’t lean back and have my feet on the floor at the same time, and so much more can cause problems. I have even developed arthritis affecting the big toes in each foot as well as the start of bone spurs in those toes. My doctor told me to stop standing on my toes. Easier said than done! I stand on my toes to reach shelves in my apartment, to get things off of shelves in stores, and even to sit on a toilet (ok, I’m not standing on my toes, but they’re still at that angle, because I’m too short for my feet to be flat on the floor.)

And never mind my inability to find anyone in a crowd or see over the person who sits in front of me in a theater.

I go to a lot of doctor appointments (no surprise there!) and they often weigh me and measure my height. I range between 5’1″ in the morning and 5′ 0.5″ later in the day. I can be a little taller as I go about my day thanks to an extra inch or so from my sneakers or winter boots. Unfortunately, due to toes issues I can’t wear heels any more. It’s not like I wore them every day, and I didn’t wear super high heels, but once upon a time I would occasionally wear heels to work and enjoy being 5’3″. I would often wear heel to parties so that I wouldn’t have to crane my neck as much when I stood around talking to people. Taller folks laugh at that, but it really helps. But now, no more heels for me. For the rest of my life.

So I’m short. I don’t love it, but I’ve accepted it. It’s not like I have a choice. I’m not looking forward to shrinking as I get older, and I hope to minimize that with my physical therapy, but even so, with my scoliosis, I know it will happen.

So imagine my surprise when I went to a doctor appointment right after physical therapy and they measured me at 5′ 1.5″! I was thrilled. I know PT helps with my pain and discomfort. That’s been obvious from the start. And my current physical therapist is the best I’ve had. I travel way out of my way to see her. In the past, PT was 6-12 weeks, then sending me home to continue on my own. When my problems recurred, I was blamed for not consistently doing my exercises. But let’s be real here: sometimes they won’t happen. If I have a week where I feel like shit, where I’m too fatigued or in tons of pain or have a super heavy period, then I won’t do those exercises. And then when I resume them after a week or two, damage has already been done and I won’t be able to get myself back to where I was at before the short break. That’s not my fault, it’s just how my body is.

My current PT is different. She sees me every 1-3 weeks all year long. We space things out in a way to get insurance coverage throughout the year, meaning we make a lot of adjustments in the autumn based on how many visits I have left. This means I maintain a certain baseline that works well. If I come in with a complaint, she focuses on that, like this week when I had a lot of neck pain. If I come in without any particular pain, she focuses on general posture, loosening muscles, and straightening my spine.

And it must be working. For the first time in many years I have a lot less pain on a consistent basis. When I first started seeing her, I would come in with a lot of pain to every session. If I didn’t see her for 3 weeks I was in agony. Now, 3 weeks is usually doable. I recently had to stop seeing her for 6 weeks due to some family issues she was dealing with. By the end I had some pain, but it wasn’t too bad. I was amazed!

Obviously PT was working well for me, but getting that height measurement just put a number on it. She was pleased when I told her. But then something more surprising happened. A few weeks later I saw a different doctor and they measured me. This time I wasn’t coming directly from physical therapy. In fact, my last PT appointment had been 3 days prior. But when they measured me, I was 5′ 1.5″ again! I was floored.

I don’t know if this will last. I don’t know if it will even happen again. All I know is that for once, I have concrete, numerical proof that something I am doing is actually working. I’ll take it!

Now excuse me, because it’s time for me to do my physical therapy exercises.

Like this:

The thing about thyroid hormones is that they are needed for every part of the body to function. When you look at the list of hundreds of hypothyroid symptoms, you can see exactly what I mean. We need thyroid hormones.

It took too long for my hypothyroidism to be diagnosed. I am certain that the years-long delay in diagnosis and treatment led to some of the long-term damage to my body. Eventually I was diagnosed and put on medication.

Nine years later I did my own research and realized a lot of my ongoing health issues were untreated thyroid symptoms. I switched to a different class of medications altogether called Natural Dessicated Thyroid (NDT.) Instead of synthetic, human-made hormones, I was no taking pills formed from pig thyroid. You see, pigs produce the same thyroid hormones as humans, and in similar proportions. Many hypothyroid patients see huge improvement on these medications. Eventually I even got my father to switch to NDT and he also found improvement.

Things went well until several months ago. After years on Nature-throid I was suddenly hypothyroid again. What the hell?! I read on a hypothyroid blog that a lot of Nature-throid patients had seen a resurgence of symptoms since they changed their manufacturing process last year. At the time they swore they weren’t making any changes other than switching to a bigger facility. We’re now learning that there were changes to the ingredients after all, and that these were having unintended consequences for many patients.

I spoke to my doctor, who gladly wrote me a prescription for another NDT called NP Thyroid. But when I called the company that makes NP Thyroid I learned that it contains cornstarch. I react badly to corn. This would be a tiny amount but even so, I would eventually have issues with it. So we turned to compound medications.

The compound pharmacy is horrible. I won’t detail the issues now, but they suck at filling a prescription. I should have had this prescription last week but they keep having delays. My old Nature-throid prescription may not work well but it’s better than nothing so I figured I better get a refill, since the new compound wouldn’t be ready before I ran out of medication.

And then I got the call: Nature-throid is back-ordered until March. They don’t know why. No one has it. I asked around and learned more. The raw ingredients are back-ordered so it’s not just Nature-throid but all NDT medications! I even called a different compounding pharmacy and they said they can’t get their hands on it either.

SHIT!!!

So now I’m panicking, because I need my thyroid medication! And remember how I said thyroid hormones effect all parts of the body? Well, they affect mood, too. I have been more emotional lately due to being in a hypothyroid state. So while the issues with the compounding pharmacy are rightly upsetting me, I am getting even more upset than I usually would. I don’t have the capacity to properly react to things right now. This means I’m extra stressed out.

And ironically, the thing that is currently causing me the most stress is my inability to get my hands on the medication that would fix the problem that is causing me to be so emotional.

There aren’t a lot of options here, and things could get very bad. If I can’t get more NDT (I’m cleaning out every pharmacy that I can right now) then I will have to go back to synthetic medications. But those probably contain corn in the fillers and might not even be gluten-free. Not to mention, they simply don’t work as well as NDT. There’s a good reason I stopped taking them. But my thyroid can’t produce enough hormones on its own, so what choice do I have?

For any of you who take NDT, stock up now! Get extra refills if you can. Because the next few months could be rough for anyone with hypothyroid who takes these necessary, life-saving medications. And if you know anything about why this back-order is happening, please comment below or email me at msrants at gmail dot come because I would love to know.

Good luck to all of us. Let’s hope they bring our medication back soon. Because our lives depend on it.

Like this:

Any of you with complicated food restrictions will totally understand. Sometimes it feels like nothing is safe. Like the world is full of food landmines.

Seven years ago I figured out that gluten was a problem for me. Over the next 2 years I figured out a bunch of other foods I had to limit or eliminate. As my leaky gut slowly healed, I was able to bring back some of those foods, while acknowledging that others are gone forever.

For the most part, I don’t mind giving up these foods. I can deal with never eating gluten or corn again. Yes, popcorn used to be one of my favorite snacks. But it’s worth it if it means no longer feeling so sick! So in theory, things were good.

Over the years, I have slowly figured out many places where I was getting trace amounts of gluten, and as I eliminated them, I felt better. These were things like sunscreen, moisturizer, lemon juice concentrate, and kissing my then-boyfriend. Some were easier than others to avoid. Let’s be honest, dating gets a lot harder when you have to tell someone at dinner on a second date that you can’t kiss them if they eat gluten – and you don’t even know yet if they were planning to kiss you!

Things were going ok overall until recently. Something is wrong. So far my doctors have thrown around ideas ranging from mitochondrial disease to some sort of yet-unnamed chronic infection to weakened adrenals that aren’t responding to the current treatment. I’m going to see new specialists. But I have also begun to wonder about what I’m putting into my body.

You see, my thyroid med isn’t doing the trick anymore and I want to switch brands, as many patients have recently had to do. The new one is gluten-free, but then just as I was about to get it from the pharmacy it occurred to me that it could have corn in it. It turns out, it does. Hmm. I asked my naturopath what she thought. She said it might be fine at first, but eventually it would probably build up in my body and cause problems. That makes sense. So I’m going to start a compounded medication next week instead.

But then I realized that I hadn’t checked for corn in my current thyroid medication since the manufacturing process was changed last year. And sure enough, it has an ingredient that might have been derived from corn. Yet I still have to take it until the new compounded medication is ready. Every day, I take it knowing that it could be making me sicker, but that I also need it to survive.

Then I looked some more. My vitamin C contains cellulose. So do a few of my other supplements. Huh.

So now I’m wondering if my malaise, fatigue, and brain fog could be from too much corn exposure. I know that small amounts of corn syrup in ketchup, for example, causes a problem for me. So this might be it!

But then just last week I was reminded of the many ways that Celiac Disease symptoms can appear that aren’t necessarily gastrointestinal. And at the same time I learned about some other places where I could be getting trace amounts of gluten exposure that I hadn’t considered before. These are harder to detect, like particles in the air when I’m in the home of someone who has recently baked with wheat flour, or produce in the grocery store that has gluten on it because another customer was touching it. How on Earth can I avoid those? I want a gluten detection service dog (yes, that’s a thing! And they are amazing!) but I am not healthy enough to care for a dog as a pet right now, sadly, much less to train a service dog.

So maybe I will take my new thyroid med and feel better and not worry about this other stuff. Except, even though some symptoms got a lot worse recently, there were issues before, also. So something else is going on. And while I am willing to try a new prescription for adrenal issues and to see the infectious disease specialist, wouldn’t it make the most sense to first eliminate all sources of the foods that I *know* can cause problems for me?

The problem is, I found a list of places where corn can be found, and it’s intimidating. Many of these are common (vinegar) or often found in gluten free foods (xantham gum.) I don’t know how careful I have to be, either. Do I have to avoid honey just in case the bees were fed high glucose corn syrup? If this were a gluten issue I would say yes, but for corn? Am I sensitive enough to need that level of scrutiny?

So now a lot of foods and medications I thought were Celiac-safe might not be and might contain corn that I didn’t know about, produce could be contaminated by other shoppers, gluten might be in the air, and no one knows what’s really safe and what isn’t. Ahhh!

It’s no wonder I’m stressed out about food. It’s no wonder I wish I could just take a safe nutritional supplement and never eat again. Food is a necessity in life, but it feels like a danger, too. Yes, I have to make sure my shampoo is both gluten-free and corn-free and that’s a real pain in the butt to do. Yes, I can’t wear the kinds of lipsticks I like anymore and it totally sucks. Those are emotionally hurtful in different ways. But food is something I can’t ignore. I can say I’ll deal with the lipstick issue another time, but food can’t wait that long. And that – how much I need that thing that has so much potential to hurt me – might just be the most frustrating part of all.

Unfortunately, my insurance will not cover a visit to a nutritionist, and I don’t know how much that would help me anyway. But I would love to hear from others who deal with this. If you have Celiac Disease or corn intolerence, please please please comment below and tell me how you deal with all of this, offer suggestions, or just let me know I’m not alone. It helps so much!

It was one of those days. I had a checkup with my primary care physician and long list of things to discuss. In addition to all the stuff I know about, I feel like something else must be wrong. My naturopath thinks so, too. But I don’t like the possibilities! On top of that, it was earlier than I’d like. Still, I was determined to make it all work.

The plan was simple, but also overwhelming: get up early, get dressed, make lunch, eat breakfast, stop at the library, then go to my appointment. After the appointment I would pick up something from a friend, then go to another friend’s house to hang out for the afternoon. It would eat up all of my energy and I would be exhausted, but I felt it was worth it.

I got up early. I got dressed. And then things went south. I was awfully tired, and while I cut up fruit for part of my lunch, my hand slipped and the knife sliced my finger. Oops! The blood gushed and I rushed to put my finger under the faucet, then wrapped it in a paper towel that quickly soaked with blood. Not good. After a bandaid, I decided I didn’t need more fruit and put it in the fridge. I finished putting together the rest of my lunch, then moved on to breakfast, all the while wondering if I would need stitches. I really didn’t want to deal with stitches! I was already headed to the doctor’s office, at least.

As I left my apartment, I saw a woman walking a dog and asked to pet him. That helped a lot! When I got to my appointment I saw a message on my phone that picking up the thing from my friend got cancelled. Part way through the appointment, I got the message that my friend had to cancel hanging out. Which means I never had to make lunch in the first place! A couple hours later I was eating lunch at home anyway.

Things with the doctor went pretty well, though we ran way over time and still didn’t cover everything, which frustrated both of us. He looked at my finger which had, thankfully, stopped bleeding! What a relief! Then it was time to get the earwax out of my ears.

If you’ve ever had issues with too much earwax, you can see where this is going. I hadn’t had it done in at least a year, maybe two. When the doctor looked in my ear he couldn’t see my eardrums but that was no surprise to me. It was uncomfortable and sometimes it even hurt. I could *hear* the wax when I touched my ear and it moved. I had been looking forward to this.

Luckily, the medical assistant had time to do the ear irrigation. It took a lot of sprays with the solution, but finally the biggest chunk of wax I’ve ever seen came out of my ear. I mean, I’ve had big chunks of earwax come out before, but this was almost double the size of what usually comes out. How did it even fit in there?!?

And instantly my ear felt better. It felt empty. Clear. Clean. The discomfort was gone. The sounds were gone. Then she did the other ear and it felt just as good.

By the time I went to get my blood drawn I was feeling great! Sure, I’m fatigued and my thyroid med isn’t working properly any more and we think there’s something else going on but we don’t know what and I might have to start taking adrenal medications and and and…. but at least my ears feel better!

I suddenly had no plans in the afternoon. I put in my earbuds so I could make a phone call and was amazed at how well they fit. I didn’t realize they were uncomfortable before, until now they suddenly weren’t any more.

It was a shit show of a morning, full of blood, anxiety, and worry. But hey, at least my earwax got cleaned out. And that made it all a lot better.

Now it’s time to go research various doctors and medications that my doctor and I discussed because, as we all know, a chronic illness patient’s work is never done.

Like this:

Travel is often tricky when you have a disability. Maybe you can’t lift your suitcase into the overhead bin on an airplane or you need to make frequent stops on a car trip. Whatever the issue, there are a lot of unknowns. So I thought I would tell you about my experiences on Amtrak recently. Obviously these are only my own experiences, and I’m sure it will be different for everyone. Still, I learned a lot.

I mentioned in last week’s post that I recently took my first week-long trip since I got really sick about 8 years ago. That was a big deal! So as you can imagine, I was very nervous. I am thrilled to say that it went very well, and you can (and should!) read all about it. The first thing I did was get on a train to Philadelphia, and I’m happy to say that despite my nerves, that went very well, too. So here’s my experience, mostly good, with a few bumps.

My view as I left New York

The first thing that happened, of course, is that I made reservations. I spent a while considering my options. I didn’t have a lot of flexibility on the dates. I looked at all of the trains. Some were high speed and some weren’t. Some business class tickets were almost as cheap as coach tickets. But timing was important. I didn’t want to go too early, since I knew I would need a lot of time to get ready without stressing out too much, and I didn’t want to arrive too late. I noticed in poking around on the web site that I could enter that I had a disability and I would get a reduced price fare! I was definitely taking price into account, so that made a difference. Some fares had huge discounts and some weren’t discounted at all if they were already really cheap tickets. For example, my trip from Philadelphia to New York was $39 without a discount – I wasn’t about to complain about that! You can get info on the discounts here. There’s a list of documentation to prove you are disabled, but I was never asked for anything. I’m guessing that varies. Finally I chose my tickets and tried to book online, but had trouble. So I picked up the phone.

I was able to tell the agent on the phone exactly which tickets I wanted. And when I booked, I was clear that I needed a wheelchair at each station. She asked if I wanted accessible seating with extra leg room. I asked about the price and she said there was no extra charge. Wow! I hadn’t been expecting that. So I said yes, and I’m glad I did. But more on that later.

We made a reservation (which didn’t have to be paid for a few days) and I went on my merry way. Except I was having trouble figuring out how to get to the station in Boston. The last time I traveled by train I lived closer to the city. I posted on Facebook and asked friends how they suggested I get from the suburbs to the train station. Someone suggested that I leave from a different station. I would have to pay for parking, but since my plan had been to leave my car in a friend’s driveway and then take a cab or a Lyft into the city, the cost would be the same. It was perfect!

I called Amtrak to change the tickets. I hadn’t paid yet. The person on the phone pointed out that I had accessible seating on one leg of my trip, but not the other two (I was going Boston –> Philadelphia, Philly –> New York, and NY –> Boston.) The first person had screwed up and I wouldn’t have known until I got on the trains. In fairness, the confirmation had said it clearly, but I didn’t read it closely enough. Lesson learned! The person on the phone cancelled my old tickets in order to book new ones in accessible seats. Once those tickets were cancelled, the new ones popped up at that day’s prices – and ended up costing me $100 extra! I was pissed, because they hadn’t told me. She assured me that when a new ticket opened up at the lower price, I would get it. I was still pissed. I told her that shouldn’t have happened. I was taking the same trains at the same times as before. The accessible seating mistake was the agent’s fault, not mine. She insisted she couldn’t do anything, but that she would get me a lower price. What could I do? I booked another reservation. In the end, she was right. 2 days later I got an email saying I had tickets at the original price. I had worried for nothing. If that hadn’t worked out I would have made a bigger stink about it, because really, it wasn’t my fault they hadn’t given me accessible seating in the first place. Anyway, I paid and then got ready for my trip.

The suburban station I left from was tiny. I got a disabled parking space in the garage (I have a placard) and schlepped my stuff inside. Here’s where I made my first mistake. I went to the agent and got my tickets. He asked if I really needed a wheelchair, since it was a small station. That was an inappropriate question that he should never have asked! And I made the mistake of saying I was fine. The station was tiny and I got to the seating area just fine. But getting my stuff up the ramp to the train platform later, though not far, was too much. I should have asked for luggage assistance, but I didn’t know that was a thing. I asked how I would find accessible seating. He assured me that the conductor would be looking for me and would help me. That part went well. The conductor carried my suitcase onto the train like it weighed nothing and found me an empty accessible seat. The seat next to me was empty, which was nice.

Later, another conductor came by to check tickets. He asked if I really needed the accessible seating and I said yes, and told him I would need a wheelchair in Philly. He didn’t blink. He didn’t ask for proof. He simply told me he wouldn’t be on the train there, but would leave a clear note above my seat (where they place the tickets) for the next conductor, and the wheelchair would be waiting for me.

I read and ate and looked out the window and read some more as the miles passed. At one point an older couple got on the train. I heard the conductor explaining there were no accessible seats remaining on this train and next time they should reserve one. I felt bad, even though I had no reason to. They sat behind me.

More miles passed, and a family came up to me, a man and a woman holding a baby and pushing a stroller. They asked if they could have my seats so they would have room for the stroller. I started to say no, feeling horribly guilty (again, I shouldn’t have! And yet I did. Go figure.) Then the conductor (the same one who checked my ticket) came over and told them that I had reserved the accessible seating and they needed to leave the stroller in the luggage area up front and go find other seats. I was relieved and also impressed. I was also glad he happened to be in my car at the time. Later, he stopped by my seat to ask if I was doing ok, then said, “Can you believe some people? I can’t believe they would ask you to move out of accessible seating!” I appreciated his support and helpfulness. He had the perfect attitude. He was right! In their defense, the seats weren’t clearly labeled as been accessible seating. And of course, I don’t look disabled. Still.

Many times during the trip I brought my suitcase from that big empty area in front of me (big enough for a wheelchair) and put it a bit in front of my seat and propped up my legs on it. That made a huge difference for my knees and hips. Otherwise, I don’t know how I would have managed. Thank goodness I had the accessible seat! I also made sure to get up several time to walk a bit – that’s much easier on a train than on a plane, though there’s still swaying. I leaned against the luggage storage above the seats as I stretched, bringing my legs into the big open wheelchair space. It helped a lot, I think.

In New York we had a 15 minute scheduled wait. I walked around a bit on the train. The conductor told the couple behind me to wait, that he would get the wheelchair that hadn’t arrived yet. He assured them the train wouldn’t leave until he gave the word, and he wouldn’t do that until they had the wheelchair. I chatted with them while they waited and we had a nice time. The wheelchair came and they left. We were getting close!

Somewhere between NY and Philly I got tired and wasn’t feeling as well. At Philly, the conductor told me to wait in my seat for the wheelchair. It was only a minute before the wheelchair arrived. He helped me with my luggage. The red cap worker pushed the wheelchair with one hand and pulled my suitcase with the other. I told him I needed a cab so he brought me right to the cab area, to the ramp in the curb. He had the guy directing cabs send one up to the ramp. He put my suitcase in the trunk and asked if I needed help getting into the seat. I was VERY impressed.

The first leg went smoothly! What a relief!

Several days later it was time to go home. I found a red cap at the train station in Philly and told him I would need a wheelchair. They were all being used, but he assured me he would find one and would come get me when it was time. I was very early, so I read a book. But as the time came for my train, I got nervous. I got up and looked for the red cap, saying my train would leave in 5 minutes. And there were no wheelchairs. He assured me were fine. He pointed to a long line of people and said they were waiting for my same train, that it hadn’t arrived yet. Ok. I relaxed. But a minute later he was there with a wheelchair and he brought me and my luggage down to the platform.

This time there was someone next to me on the train, but I had accessible seating. It was only and hour and a half so I felt the seat wasn’t necessary, but I booked it to keep all of the tickets the same. And then part way through the trip my knee started to lock up and I became very grateful for the extra leg room! I propped my leg on my suitcase again and it made a huge difference! Another lesson learned – even for a shorter trip, I need that space.

And once again, the conductors and red caps handled my suitcase and assured me I would have a wheelchair in NY. Great!

Sure enough, in New York the wheelchair was waiting when we arrived. I told him I needed the subway and he not only brought me to the area, but pushed me to the ticket area so I could buy a ticket, and asked the person at the turnstiles where the elevator was. He made sure I had everything I needed, since he wasn’t allowed through the turnstiles. The elevator was right there, so I got down the platform easily. Again, everyone was friendly and helpful.

A couple days later, it was time to head home. This was the one part that didn’t go well. First, I had to walk through Penn Station to get to the Amtrak area. The station in the Boston suburbs is tiny. The station in Philly is big, but the Amtrak area is near the entrance. Penn Station is huge. I followed signs and didn’t get lost, but it was a long walk and I was in a lot of pain when I got there. I showed my ticket to get into the Amtrak waiting area and immediately found 2 empty seats, dropped my things in one, and plopped into the other. I had an hour before my train. I rested and ate part of my lunch. Then I finally went to the red caps and asked about getting a wheelchair. They told me they would find me. I went back to my seat and ate more and read my book.

A bit before my train, a red cap came over and checked in. He told me he just wanted to make sure he knew where I was sitting. That was reassuring. A few minutes later he came back with the wheelchair and a dolly carrying another suitcase. He added my suitcase. He was walking fast to the elevator with another passenger behind him. He asked if he was walking too fast. She said something about a problem with her foot making it hard to walk. He slowed down a bit.

We got to the elevator. People got off and the doors started to close. He opened them and got our luggage on, then came back to put on my wheelchair but the doors closed first! He swore and ran down the stairs, leaving the other passenger and me feeling bewildered. Another red cap walking by commented that he could have pulled the red emergency button to keep the doors open. When the doors opened again the elevator was…. empty! I expected to see the red cap with our luggage, but it was totally empty! The other passenger and I looked at each other and didn’t know what to do. The red cap came running back up the stairs and was upset to see the elevator closed. He berated the other passenger for not holding it open, while I asked about our luggage and said he’d taken it off the elevator and left it on the platform. Yikes! Now I didn’t know if our luggage was safe, and he had the nerve to get mad at this poor woman, even though he was the one to screw up. Why didn’t he just come back up with the elevator? Worst of all, he was muttering that now we might miss the train. WHAT!?!?

When the elevator came, this time he pulled the red emergency button. When we got down the platform he retrieved our luggage and took off practically at a run to get us on the train before it left. I was ok in the wheelchair, but I worried about the poor woman who was having trouble walking. She needed to get to the back of the train for the quiet car. The red cap put me and my luggage in the first car, then ran off. I only hope he put that poor woman in the wheelchair to get her to the back of the train!

That was a horrible experience, which is a shame, because everything else had gone really well. The train ride home was easy. I had the seat next to me empty again, and in fact most of the car was empty on a Saturday afternoon. I stretched and walked around as needed, and propped up my legs when I needed to. The conductor knew I needed a wheelchair, but I told him I might not, and I would know as we got closer. He checked in as we got closer to home and I told him I didn’t need a wheelchair, just help with my luggage. It was that tiny station again, and I knew I needed to stretch my legs after the trip and before my drive home, so I thought it would be a good idea to walk a little bit. The red cap was waiting for me at the station. He loaded my bags onto a luggage cart and we headed inside. I asked where I would pay for my parking and he said either at the nearby desk or when I left the garage. I asked if he minded waiting while I paid at the desk and he said not at all. We had a pleasant chat as we walked to my car. He even put my suitcase into the trunk, which I hadn’t expected!

As I drove home, I thought about how easy my return had been. In fact, the train travel in general had gone well. Except for that horrible time in New York’s Penn Station on the way home, everything with Amtrak had been fantastic. I can’t believe they give discounts for disabled passengers, free accessible seats (as long as they aren’t all booked,) and help with luggage whether or not someone needs a wheelchair. They might offer other services as well, but these were the only ones I needed.

So that’s my experience. Obviously, your mileage may vary, but I hope your travels go as well as mine did. In fact, they went well enough that I hope to take the train to New York again in a few months!

Search

Search

Copyright 2019.

Disclaimer

I am not a doctor or any other sort of medical professional. I am writing my own thoughts, feelings and opinions here. Please consult your own medical professional for advice on your own particular situation. You are responsible for your own choices.